


Four Times Tom Ruined Bill's Life

by Paceus



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: First Time, M/M, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-25
Updated: 2011-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-15 22:45:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paceus/pseuds/Paceus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill tells Tom he's gay. Tom starts acting in incomprehensible ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Times Tom Ruined Bill's Life

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Possession Principle](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/2557) by Talya Firedancer. 



> Thanks to anehan for encouragement and advice, and to steinsgrrl and toastieghostie for being smart and wonderful betas!

"Tom, I need to tell you something."

Tom paused on his way to the kitchen. Bill was standing in the dining room by the table, smoothing his finger across its surface. Bill wondered if he should have told Tom to sit down. He'd never told Tom anything this big. Tom's expression was expecting, and suddenly Bill felt like he had to get this out right away, or maybe he'd lose courage and wouldn't say it after all.

"Tom," he said, gaining momentum, and took in a gulp of air. "I'm gay."

He stared at Tom, feeling worried and wide-eyed with his heart pounding in his chest.

Tom said, "Oh."

There was a moment of silence. Bill was looking at Tom, waiting for him to say something more, and Tom was looking back as if he was waiting for _Bill_ to say something more.

"So...?" Bill prompted.

Tom glanced away. "So... the true love you're waiting for, it's a guy?" he offered.

"Yes, exactly," Bill said. It was really the essence of it. But then, Tom always knew how to cut to the chase.

"Do you think it's weird?" Bill ventured to ask, and Tom looked surprised for a moment.

"No," he said, "It's you, right? I just want you to be happy."

A relieved sigh escaped Bill, and he smiled, all anxiety forgotten. "I'm so glad!"

He hurried over to hug Tom, and Tom put his arms around Bill readily, pressing Bill even closer against him. Warm pleasure filled Bill all over; he was so happy to have a twin like that -- one who supported him always.

* * *

"Tom! What the hell was that?" Bill hissed as he clicked the hotel room door shut behind Tom and him. He was so upset, he wanted to shout, but the doors were pretty much the opposite of sound-proof, and the security probably lingered in the hallway even though Tom and Bill had already retreated into the room. Well, Tom had retreated and Bill had stormed after him, so charged he wouldn't have been surprised if he'd emitted sparks.

"What?" Tom asked blankly. Too blankly. Bill narrowed his eyes. Tom couldn't not know that Bill was angry at him, and if he truly hadn't had any idea why, he would have shown more concern for _why_ Bill was mad.

Bill gestured, frustrated. "I thought you were okay with me being gay!"

"I am!" Tom sounded annoyed and Bill bristled.

"Well, it means I'll be with someone who is a _man_. It kind of seemed like you had a problem with that half an hour ago!"

Tom looked vexed. "It's not you I have a problem with, it's him."

At least he'd stopped pretending he didn't know what Bill was talking about. Bill lifted his chin, vindictive. Tom had behaved unacceptably toward that guy -- a guy who'd approached Bill in the club, who'd made Bill feel like he could finally be himself and have what he wanted. And then Tom had driven him away. Literally.

"He was sleazy," Tom said defensively.

"You need to let me make that decision," Bill said.

"All right," Tom conceded, but he looked extremely dubious.

Bill sat down on the bed, defeated. An hour ago he'd been talking to a guy with an experimental haircut and a smile that had promised Bill new, exciting things, and now here he was again at the end of the day, in a generic hotel room, celibate and closeted.

All because Tom had followed after them unbidden as soon as the guy had bought Bill a drink. He'd put his arm around Bill and gossiped about people wearing turquoise pants on the dance floor even when Bill had given him gimlet eyes so that he'd understand he wasn't welcome. And then Tom had turned his attention to the drink-buying guy and gone from drunken, boisterous bad jokes to insults and Bill didn't even know why.

Tom sat next to him and Bill glared at him.

"I'm sorry," Tom said. He was looking sheepish, and he didn't even dare to touch Bill, even though his apologies were usually accompanied by nudges or shoulder-clasping, if not hugs.

"You were an asshole," Bill snapped.

"I know."

"You shouldn't have been there at all. I was trying to make a connection and you ruined it. And then you..."

"I know," Tom said again. Bill didn't remember when he'd seen Tom look so meek. He tried to keep a level head but his heart was already melting.

Bill found he couldn't stay mad at Tom. Tom only meant well, after all, and he really cared about Bill.

Bill covered Tom's hand that was resting on Tom's thigh and said, "It's all right."

"Really? You forgive me?" Tom gazed at him intently and Bill flushed a little because it felt so good to see so clearly how much he meant to Tom, how important his forgiveness was to Tom.

"Really." Bill smiled and Tom relaxed and smiled back.

Actually, Bill couldn't have cared less about that random guy. Who had been kind of sleazy. But Bill couldn't tell Tom that because it would only encourage him, and Bill did want to get laid some time during this century.

* * *

Bill thought things were solved. But then it happened again.

This time, Bill didn't have time to admonish Tom, because as soon as they got to the backstage room where they could wait for the concert to begin, Tom said, "No need to thank me."

Bill opened his mouth but no sound came out because he was too furious to speak. When Georg walked through the door, he took one look at his face, stopped -- Gustav barely missed running into him -- and walked out again, shooing Gustav out too and closing the door.

Bill couldn't concentrate on them, though. He finally got his voice back. "What?" he said inarticulately, and then repeated it with more volume. "What?!"

Tom was picking snacks by the catering table and didn't even look at Bill, cool as a cucumber. Bill ground his teeth together; he wanted to _throttle_ Tom. Not only had a gorgeous-looking guy appeared at the signing, but there had been something about him, the way he had looked at Bill, that had made Bill feel practically elated -- free and enthusiastic in a way that giving signatures, despite the great dedication of their fans, certainly didn't. And then Tom had interrupted the beginnings of their conversation, urged the line to shuffle along, and dragged Bill out of the room at the end without even bothering to hide his intentions.

"What is it that I don't need to thank you for? What on earth could it be?" Bill ranted. "I told you not to interfere with things that are my business!"

"It was a fan," Tom said. He lifted his eyes at last and faced Bill squarely.

"Well-" Bill started, but Tom just raised his voice.

"It was a public situation, a fan, and there were loads of other fans around who all want to know exactly what's going on in your personal life. Is that what you want?"

Bill wanted to say something indignant and righteous that would shut Tom up but quick. Unfortunately, nothing occurred to him right at the moment.

"You want to protect your privacy and you want to find the one," Tom said in a gentler voice. "I just didn't see how either of those things could have happened there."

Bill deflated. He couldn't deny that Tom had a point.

It was a good thing that Tom had told Bill not to thank him, though, because Bill would rather have pulled one of own his teeth out than do that after his outburst.

"This sucks," Bill complained, rubbing his forehead.

Tom came to his side, his face sympathetic. "Yeah," Tom said and put his hand on Bill's arm, rubbing it soothingly with his thumb. "Sorry."

Bill shrugged and didn't look at Tom. "It's not your fault."

"It was still a dick move," Tom said. "I was interfering and you'd told me not to. I just..."

Bill looked at him when he paused, and Tom gave him a small, sweet smile. "You're really important to me," Tom continued. "I can't let just anyone make passes at my little brother."

The combination of Tom's apologetic tone and the teasing, tender way Tom said "little brother" did Bill in. Not to mention how loving Tom's eyes were, flicking down to take in Bill's whole face, and for a moment, Bill not only forgot what he was about to say -- he didn't think he could speak at all.

Bill had to take a deep breath and clear his throat. "I know," he said in a soft voice. "You're taking care of me." And then, before the emotion could overwhelm him, he socked Tom in the arm. "Not that you'd have to."

* * *

"Did _you_ see what he was doing? Did you _see_ it?" Bill demanded as soon as he and Georg were safely in the hotel suite and the door was closed. Bill had stewed during the entire car ride to the hotel, and he had a lot of things he wanted to say now that neither the security nor the patrons in the hotel lobby could hear him.

Georg chuckled. "It does seem like Tom is kind of..." he began to say, but he didn't finish his sentence.

"Yes, exactly," Bill said before making a face in frustration. "Kind of what? What is he doing?"

What Tom was doing was ruining Bill's life. Bill had felt like the world had opened up for him as soon as he had decided he could have this. When he'd told Tom and decided to explore himself and his opportunities, they were suddenly there: tempting, perfect opportunities. Opportunities like a guy who was so good-looking, he was downright edible. Bill had met him at the promotion party they had just returned from. He had clearly shown interest in Bill and he was in the music business, too. He would have understood Bill privacy issues. He might have been trustworthy. Only, Bill had never found out because Tom had been practically glued to his side, at his elbow all the time, leaning into him and putting his arm around him occasionally, interrupting when the man had tried to talk and distracting Bill with questions and comments when Bill had tried to talk. It had been a nightmare.

"I guess he's sort of overprotective," Georg offered. It was a deliberate understatement, Bill knew. Georg was always very careful when talking to one of the twins about the other.

Bill sat down on the armchair and sighed. "I guess," he said, but then he jumped up again and started to circle the room. "But no, I don't think it's that," he said. "It just doesn't fit somehow. It's driving me crazy!"

Georg poured himself a glass of water, looking at peace with the world. Bill envied him for a minute; Georg didn't have a twin who meddled and drove him up the wall. Bill couldn't think that way for longer than a moment, though. He didn't really want to imagine living without a twin. He stopped by the hall table and fiddled with a phone book to distract himself.

"Maybe he's not overprotective," Georg said from behind him, thoughtfully, "maybe he's possessive."

Bill frowned. "What does that mean?" he called over his shoulder. Being possessive -- that would be like Tom wanted to _have_ him. Bill froze. The idea made him feel funny.

"Well, like," Georg tried to explain, "He's used to spending a lot of time with you, and maybe he doesn't want to give that up." Then something seemed to occur to him. "Possessive like of a friend, not like, ha ha! Not like he wants you in his bed."

In his bed, Bill thought slowly. It was an outrageous idea. Him in Tom's bed. Tom _having_ him on his -- _in_ his bed. Bill was... shocked, yes, shocked deeply to his core. That must have been what the tight feeling in his groin was. "Ha ha," he said weakly.

Tom chose that moment to walk in. He'd been in such a hurry to get Bill out of the party that he'd shoved Bill into the first car with Georg, even though they usually rode together. He'd taken the second car with Gustav. Possibly so he'd avoid rowing with Bill, but there was no escaping his wrath now, Bill thought, and he tried to scowl in Tom's direction. It was difficult when his insides felt weird and fluttery, however.

"We need to talk," Bill said anyway and put on his meanest serious-business expression.

"Sure," Tom said and glanced briefly at Georg. "Let's go to my room."

Bill hesitated for a second. Tom's room didn't seem like an ideal place for a talk. Thinking about them in there made his thoughts scatter. But he decided that he couldn't show any weakness, so he strode to Tom's room, head held high. He held it high also when he walked in and the first thing he saw was Tom's bed.

When he turned around, Tom was closing the door behind him, separating them from the rest of the world. Bill swallowed.

"You ruined my chances again," he accused, remembering how the guy at the promotional party had looked at him, and got angry all over again. "You don't even have any excuse, this time!"

Tom ducked his head and Bill wanted to scream at him -- what had Tom been thinking? At the same time, there was a worried voice in the back of Bill's mind. What _was_ Tom trying to do, actually? If he'd only had excuses before, what was the actual reason?

Bill tried to ignore the niggling, distracting feeling. "He's in the industry," he went on, trying to appeal to Tom's rationality. "He would have understood my need for privacy and everything!"

"Yeah, I know," Tom said finally and looked up. "I'm sorry."

Bill stopped. Looking at Tom in the eye made his breath stutter. He felt like their connection was so strong it was almost tangible. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, annoyance and confusion, because he knew Tom wanted the best for him.

Tom looked contrite enough that he believed him. Still, if Tom _was_ sorry, why had he done it in the first place? It was so infuriating!

"Sorry?" Bill repeated and drew a breath, ready to tell Tom what he thought of this statement, but Tom surprised him by stepping forward and going straight for a big hug. Bill forgot everything he'd been about to say.

His arms knew what to do, though, wrapping around Tom immediately.

"I'm really sorry," Tom said, pressing his cheek against Bill's ear, and Bill blinked three times before words came back to him.

"Then why did you do it?" he asked in a small voice that made Tom hug him tighter. Bill answered by tightening his embrace, too. It felt good, as touching Tom always did -- it made Bill feel like all was right in the world. His hurt and his anger were already receding and being replaced by warmth.

"I don't know," Tom admitted. Bill closed his eyes. Tom sounded earnest. He was just human, after all -- he made mistakes.

"Georg said that maybe you don't want to give up the time we spend together," Bill offered, and Tom drew back a little.

"Could be," Tom said thoughtfully. "I know I'd miss it if we weren't together as much."

Bill looked down, a pleased smile spreading on his face. He was almost embarrassed by Tom's rare confession, or maybe by his own response. Tom caught it, of course, and teased him further. "You know I would," Tom said, his tone affectionate and amused, and then he shifted and kissed Bill's cheek.

Tom's lips on his skin made Bill feel the oddest of all, and he was slightly breathless when Tom stepped back.

"I won't do it again, I promise," Tom swore. Bill realised he was staring at Tom with his mouth open. He struggled to keep up; this was important.

"You promise?" Bill said, partly wanting to make sure that it was true, partly disbelieving it.

Tom nodded solemnly. "Promise," he said, and put his hand on his heart.

* * *

Tom broke his promise the next day.

With a vengeance.

He interrupted the conversation, insinuated himself between Bill and the guy who'd been chatting Bill up, and talked to him aggressively. It made Bill feel dizzy for reasons he couldn't fathom. He tried to tell Tom off and apologise to the guy who had been really nice to him so far, but Bill only managed a few words before he was overcome by a strange feeling. It was strong but not something Bill could make much sense of.

He found himself staring at Tom and Tom stared back, and then Tom told the nice, polite, funny guy that Bill wasn't feeling well, chasing the guy off and effectively ruining Bill's prospective love life _again_.

"Are you all right?" Tom asked, putting a steadying hand on Bill's shoulder and peering at him with a concerned expression.

Bill knew he should be furious and tell Tom off, but he couldn't speak. Instead, his eyes drifted slowly down Tom's face and his neck and stopped at his collarbones. When he looked up again, Tom's eyes were dark and his hand was tight on Bill's shoulder.

Bill had to admit he wasn't all right, because clearly everything was not all right in his head. He clung to Tom helplessly as Tom walked him to his car.

The drive home was silent. Bill was trying to think of how to talk about what had happened, but the whole thing was so strange that he couldn't muster the emotion necessary for yet another tirade about Tom's meanness, and he didn't know what else to say. Besides, the closer to home they got, the heavier grew the something that had settled in Bill's belly, and when Tom stopped the car the hairs on Bill's arms were practically standing on end. He felt electrified, he didn't know what else to call it.

Tom ushered him in with a hand on the small of Bill's back. It felt hot, and it made Bill feel hot elsewhere too, and by the time they were inside, Bill had to turn and steady himself with a hand on Tom's shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" Tom asked.

"A little faint," Bill said.

And then Tom picked him up. Just put a hand across Bill's back, snaked his other arm behind Bill's knees, and lifted him up, easy as that.

"Oh," Bill gasped. The way Tom was pressing him against his chest didn't help with the faintness, actually, but Bill didn't feel like arguing.

"Don't worry, I'll carry you," Tom said, and Bill closed his eyes. It was more than a little melodramatic, he knew, but he felt this was a good moment to be melodramatic. He felt like he was going crazy.

Tom carried him to bed, and wasn't that an interesting thought?

But what was more, when Bill mumbled, "Thanks" and opened his eyes, he saw that it wasn't _his_ bed -- it was Tom's.

"Why did you bring me here?" he meant to say, in a light tone that made it clear he was going to get up and go to his own room in a minute, but what he actually said sounded a lot more like, "Ohh."

"Do you need something? Some water, maybe?" Tom asked, hovering.

Bill shook his head. "You brought me to your room," he said, sounding dazed in his own ears. He would have sat up and left, except that he was surrounded by Tom's scent and the sheets Tom slept between every night. He couldn't help thinking about Tom's body and all the skin and warmth and shifting, and Tom had brought him here because apparently he wanted to have Bill in his bed after all. All those thoughts were swirling in Bill's head and he was too dizzy to move.

"Yes, I..." Tom said, but he didn't seem to know how to continue. He sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed the hair from Bill's face, his fingertips grazing Bill's skin. "Bill," he said in a choked voice, and then he leaned down and kissed him.

As unexpected as it was, Bill reacted immediately to Tom's hot lips on his by turning his head for a better angle and moaning into the kiss. He was completely overwhelmed by how good it felt. He put his arm around Tom to keep him close and Tom made a quiet, urgent sound. They pressed their mouths together, hot breath and a hint of slickness between them, and Bill felt stupefied with pleasure.

Bill's brain tried desperately to catch up with what was happening. He was _kissing_ with _Tom_ and that was something that had never occurred to him as a possibility. He knew that something wasn't quite right with this. But every time he tried to think about it, the idea that he was kissing _Tom_ just made him that much hotter.

Bill moaned again and opened his mouth wider. He wanted to know what Tom's tongue would feel like in his mouth, how hot and delicious it would be against his own tongue. Tom seemed to have the same idea as he tasted Bill greedily. Tom felt amazing, climbing on top of Bill eagerly, pinning him down, and pressing him against the mattress so that Bill's whole body tingled in bliss.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Bill knew that they should stop and talk about it, but there wasn't time between kisses to do anything but gasp for breath. And every time they drew back even a little, Bill was filled with a need to kiss Tom some more, and so he craned his head up to feel Tom's lips again.

Tom was rubbing and stroking Bill's shoulder. "I," Tom whispered, and then he closed his eyes and swallowed. "Can you take your shirt off?"

Bill shivered at the low timbre of Tom's voice. "Uh," he said, not feeling very articulate. Tom moved aside enough to let him undress.

Bill managed to yank his shirt off and toss it away. Tom slid his hand up Bill's side and chest in a proprietary caress that made Bill feel light-headed. His nipples tightened and his skin felt so good under Tom's hand that he whined helplessly. Tom lowered himself so that he could kiss him again.

Bill slipped a hand under Tom's shirt to slide it up Tom's back. He couldn't get enough of Tom's hot skin and the way Tom kissed him like he wanted to steal Bill and keep him in his bed forever. Bill arched his hips to rub himself against Tom and Tom made a sound that was pure sex.

Bill's body felt like it was on fire. He was hard and desperate and he wanted Tom to quench his desire. He ran his nails down Tom's back and Tom swore. It looked like Tom wanted to quench it, too.

Tom felt absolutely amazing on top of Bill. Bill thought fleetingly about how he had imagined he'd maybe lie in bed like this with a man soon. Tom had driven all the men away. A dizzy, intense feeling rushed through Bill and he recognised it now. He'd felt it that day, and perhaps sometimes earlier, too, a heady thrill because Tom was so keen to have Bill all to himself.

Tom kissed the corner of Bill's mouth, and then his cheek. Bill remembered how Tom had kissed him on the cheek the other day. Back then, he wouldn't have dreamed about something like this. Now Tom kissed a hot trail across his cheek to his ear. His dreads tickled Bill's neck as his palm pressed against Bill's side, as if to make sure that he was really there, and Bill moaned. It was all so sensual, he was intoxicated.

Bill thought again that they should talk about it, but frankly he couldn't have cared less. There were more pressing matters in his mind. He squirmed and spread his legs so that Tom was settled between them, then he sidled his hand between them and felt up Tom's cock through his pants, which caused Tom to pretty much collapse on top of him.

"Bill," Tom moaned. Bill made an incomprehensible sound back. He couldn't concentrate on anything but Tom's hot length under his hand. He rubbed it and squeezed it and his mouth was watering, it felt so delicious against his palm, his fingers. Tom panted softly against his neck.

"Fuck," Tom rasped. Bill's breath hitched. He squeezed Tom involuntarily and Tom said, "Ah" in a small voice, like he'd been pushed to his limit. "Wait," Tom said. "Take your pants off."

Bill hesitated. "Are you sure?" he asked, voice cracking. Tom gave him a sharp look and Bill shivered. He realised it had been an order.

But still. Bill wanted Tom's cock. He wanted to see it, to touch it, to taste it if possible, and to rub his body against it. He wasn't sure Tom felt the same about him. "Are you even gay?" he asked.

"I'm your big brother," Tom said, and the words made Bill blush to the tips of his ears. "Do as I say."

"Mh," Bill agreed, if not coherently. He closed his eyes and started to work open his belt and fly. His face was still hot.

"I want you," Tom said. "All of you."

Bill hastily tugged his trousers and his briefs down. If Tom kept talking to him like that, he'd come before he was even undressed.

Bill took the rest of his clothes off the best he could. Tom let him sit up to better get rid of them, and put a hand on Bill's hip as soon as he was done. Tom was looking at Bill's cock like he was mesmerised by it. Bill felt still a little nervous, but then Tom reached forward and wrapped his hand around him so avidly that Bill forgot about worrying.

"Oh," Bill said, steadying himself with a hand on the mattress. Tom squeezed him gently a few times, as if testing how Bill's cock felt in his hand. Then he palmed the head that was glistening with pre-come, before pulling quickly at the shaft.

"Oh my god," Bill breathed. Tom was looking focused now, the tip of his tongue visible next to his lip ring. Bill couldn't take his eyes away from it. He felt like he was in sensual overload from Tom's touch and how Tom looked and the images in his mind of Tom doing it exactly like this when he was jerking off.

Bill bit his lip to distract himself with pain so he wouldn't let himself start sliding toward climax just yet. He started to open Tom's jeans with trembling hands.

Tom let go of Bill's cock when Bill started to ease his trousers open, but Bill couldn't even mourn that for very long when he got to see Tom, hard and red and captivating.

"Get up, let me," Bill said breathlessly, tugging at Tom's trousers.

Tom moved gratifyingly quickly, getting up on his knees to push his clothes down, and together they got them almost all the way down Tom's thighs. At that point, Bill couldn't wait anymore. He licked his palm and closed his fingers around Tom's cock, marvelling at the heat for a moment before starting to pump it.

"Oh fuck," Tom said. He fell forward, bracing himself with a hand, and shivered visibly. "Bill," he said, and Bill moaned despite himself -- hearing Tom say his name was an unexpected turn-on.

Tom shuffled closer to him, making Bill's grasp slip. "Hey," Bill protested. Tom grabbed his leg and pushed it away, ignoring him, so Bill ignored Tom right back and reached to touch him again. Tom's cock felt amazing in his hand, pleasingly hard and hot and Bill didn't want to give that up. He had just brushed his fingers against it, too, when suddenly Tom pushed him over and, yelping, he found himself on his back.

Then Tom leant on top of him. "Hey," he said softly, and closed his fist around the tip of Bill's cock just as he captured Bill's lips in an intimate kiss.

"Mh," Bill replied eagerly, fumbling for Tom's cock again and opening his mouth for Tom's tongue. Tom's kiss was hungry and he was milking Bill with a steady touch that soon had Bill even more frenzied than before.

They jacked each other off with fervour Bill had never felt before, pressing close to each other, making frantic noises. Bill felt like the heat between them would scorch him. The intensity made him arch off the bed and gasp for breath. They both breathed so quickly, he was worried they'd hyperventilate and pass out, but they didn't.

Bill would have thought Tom had better stamina, but that wasn't the case at all. As soon as Bill hitched his knees up to press them against Tom's sides and turned his wrist to make an even tighter canal of his fist, Tom lost it and came all over Bill's torso.

Tom sobbed, "Fuck, oh fuck," in the throes of his orgasm and trembled between Bill's thighs, and it wasn't like Bill had ever had a man between his thighs like that before, never mind Tom's come all over his chest and his stomach. Bill made a strangled sound and then he was coming so hard he felt like he would black out.

Tom's fingers petted him until it became too much and he made a distressed sound. He felt like every cell in his body had exploded, yet still he was whole. The pleasure that washed over him now was less needy. It was simply there, making him feel good.

When Bill felt he could open his eyes again, Tom was leaning heavily on his elbow next to him. Bill stared at him, trying to catch his breath. Tom's eyes were closed and he looked flushed and stunning. "Oh my god," Bill said.

Tom opened his eyes and smiled a little. "Good?" he asked.

"Amazing," Bill said. He knew he was still staring but he couldn't help it -- he felt like his eyes were wide as saucers and he couldn't help that, either.

"Well," Tom said and looked down, positively _bashful_ , and Bill felt light-headed.

"I'm going to keep you," he murmured and reached to touch Tom's neck with his fingertips. He wanted to touch Tom all over, and now he could.

"I... yeah?" Tom said. He was grinning a little and Bill grinned back.

"But you should know something," Bill warned. Tom's brows rose. "I have this mean brother who doesn't want me to get laid."

Tom smiled so widely that he got crinkles in the corners of his eyes. "I think I can take him," he boasted. The impression wasn't really that effective when he looked so boyish, though.

"I think you can," Bill agreed, anyway. Then he smiled too, because Tom _was_ that brother, and Bill wanted to have all of him, mean parts and others.

"I love you," Bill said before thinking; he would have been annoyed at himself for turning so mushy after one orgasm, except that Tom said, "Me too," and leaned down and kissed Bill so, so sweetly.

* * *

The next time Bill talked to an interesting guy he'd just met, Tom appeared by his side after a moment. He sidled casually forward until he was partially between Bill and the guy. He joined their conversation, making sure to only refer to himself and Bill as "we," like they were inseparable. This time, when Bill caught his eye, he just smiled.


End file.
